Marauder's Map
by wouldtheywriteasongforyou
Summary: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. "Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER'S MAP." A collection of drabbles/one-shots that happened in the Marauders Era and/or uses characters from that era. Mainly James&Lily and Sirius&Marlene. Mischief managed.
1. sirius&marlene: Bad Habit

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer:<br>**

Written for the Battleship Challenge (A4: blackinnon) ; Divergent Competition Candor quote 1. "Who cares about pretty? I'm going for noticeable." ; Disney Character Competition "Thomas O'Malley the Alley Cat"

25 May 2014. Word Count:

**"You're fucked up," you say because you still refuse to say I and Love and You to him.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Bad Habit<br>**

[-]

There's a boy on the edge of the dance floor with nightmares stubbling his jaw and a pack of Marlboros in his left pocket. He's a modern James Dean, what with the dark eyebrows and defiant troublemaker gleam in his eyes. His bow tie is undone and he looks to be bored out of his mind.

You _know_ he is bored out of his mind.

"Black," you say as you stride over and tap his shoulder.

"Wotcher, McKinnon," he responds tiredly and shrugs off your touch.

"Someone spiked the punch."

"Did they?" He's equal parts amused and cryptic.

"Perhaps you could tell them next time that vodka is a little more fun than firewhiskey."

"It's a school dance. Administrators are sipping from that bowl, too."

"And if they haven't reported your firewhiskey yet, who's to say they won't report the vodka?"

"Hmm." He slips in another flask of firewhiskey to the punch on the table beside the two of you.

"You clean up nice," you say candidly. You're not the only one who has noticed; his groupies could be creating a new Ice Age with all of their frosty glares in your direction.

"You look rather pretty, yourself," Sirius answers because he knows you're expecting a compliment.

You scoff. "Who cares about pretty? I'm going for noticeable." You twirl and show off your little black dress. The sweetheart neckline and mid-thigh length coupled with T-strap stilettos are doing wonders at showing off your best assets: your legs.

"This is a Yule Ball, McKinnon, not a club."

You arch an eyebrow. "Trying to tell me something, are you, Black?"

He rolls his eyes and pats the pocket with the cigarettes. "Skive with me?"

"My pleasure."

x

There's a boy standing on the edge of the world with one foot keeping him grounded and the other hovering in the air as he prepares to jump. He's a modern-day Gregory Peck debating between his morals and justice. His heart's on his sleeve and he's going to build his wings on the way down.

You _know_ he is going to fall instead of fly.

"Get down from there," you sigh. Sirius is standing on the edge of a windowsill; you're not worried at all since you two are in a classroom on the ground floor.

"But I'm so close," he says.

"Close to what?"

He doesn't answer. Instead, he tosses off his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his button-down.

"Whoa, there," you smirk. "This is a classroom, Black, not a strip club."

"Shut up, McKinnon."

You lean lazily against the wall and inspect your fingernails. "And if I don't?"

Predictably, he cannot resist the challenge in your words. "Then I'll have to make you," he growls out. But in that low voice, it sounds more like a promise than a threat.

You toss your hair and a choice finger at him. "You're boring," you lie. "I'm out. Try not to tumble out of the window and break a few bones."

"Try not to care too much about me, sweetheart," he retorts back.

The laugh you let out is not very nice or kind at all. "You're fucked up," you say because you still refuse to say I and Love and You to him.

"And don't you know it," Sirius winks.

He still refuses to say the phrase, too.

x

There's a boy shoving you into a broom cupboard and who smells like cigarette smoke, ozone, and leather. He's a modern-day Sirius Black and you love him, Godric you lovelovelove him. He's kissing you as if he's a drowning man trying to get air. There are worse sins to be ashamed of, you suppose. You don't mind sacrificing yourself up for him to take because he givesgivesgives back to you.

"You taste like brandy," he moans against the column of your throat. He sucks on your pulse point and the result is like a match thrown into gasoline. The fire that races through your veins is burning you from the inside out.

But loving Sirius Black is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands: frustrating and impossible.

He's the one bad habit you force yourself to break.

[-]


	2. marauders&sev: Hide-And-Shriek

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: I muggle-ised the shit out of this HP scene for Ashleigh's competition. You've been warned.<strong>

Written for the HPFC Ashleigh's Monthly Competition "January 2014"; Duct Tape Competition "Polka Dots" (organised chaos); Cinema Competition "The Nightmare Before Christmas"; Poetry Bootcamp "#2"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "14. Omen"

27 January 2014. Word Count: 1,220

**It was a dark and stormy night.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Hide-and-Shriek<strong>

[-]

"He halted in the wind, and - what was that/Far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost?" - _A Boundless Moment_, Robert Frost

[-]

Severus Snape was a curious little boy. He had always been inquisitive and enchanted by how the world worked. But what intrigued him the most was people. They were never precise and exact or cookie-cutter moulded carbon copies of one another. Everything was a perplexing shade of grey when it came to the human psyche. He never seemed to understand that the words people spoke weren't always what they meant. His father would tell him grand tales of "the good old days" where he was the dashing prince charming who saved damsels in distress, but then Severus would have a hard time reconciling that heroic image with the half-sober single-parent father who wallowed away his days in amber bottles of liquor.

Severus often spent his time alone and isolated on the playground at Spinner's End to avoid the wrath of his drunken father; at school, since he wasn't as loved or as properly cared for like the other children, he was bullied and ridiculed for his greasy hair or too-big thrift shop clothes. He was quiet and accepted his fate in silence – fighting back would only result in more punishment at home, and secretly he did want to be pampered and admired like the other rich kids were.

One day, the second-in-command of the gang of schoolboys who seemed to hate him the most – they called themselves the Marauders – followed him off the yellow bus and onto the playground near his house. Sirius Black was bigger than him and threatened to beat Severus up but for once, he never did.

"Come on over to the hanging tree at midnight tonight!" the never-serious one said with his messy black hair flopping in his face and eyes shining brightly with mischief.

"Why?" Severus asked suspiciously because Severus always asked why and was always suspicious.

"Aw, don't be a spoil sport, Snivellus!" Sirius Black laughed a bit cruelly with that crooked grin riddled with lies.

"But – but it's Halloween tonight," he protested. He had it all planned out: he was going to go as a basilisk and get lots of candy this year because he would only go to the houses that handed out king-size candy bars.

"What are you, chicken? Bok-bok-bok! I triple-dog-dare ya, Snivelly. At midnight, go to the hanging tree in the graveyard. The Marauders have a secret initiation if you want to be in our club and for some odd reason, Remus wanted you to join. You wouldn't let him down, would you?"

Sirius Black wasn't a very nice person when it came to people like Severus Snape. There wasn't a specific reason why Sirius was a snotty little brat but in general he was a spoiled privileged rich boy who had more opportunities in life than Severus could ever imagine. Perhaps it was a power thing or an attention-seeking characteristic of Sirius' that made him rebel against his aristocratic heritage and be a mean bully with a reputation blacker than his last name.

But as aforementioned, Severus Snape was a curious seven year old. He was also not very perceptive when it came to the underlying evil cavity motives of decay governing a person's actions despite the sugar-coated words they may have said. Severus found himself nodding in agreement - albeit reluctantly - and pinky-swearing an Unbreakable Vow that he would be at the hanging tree in the local graveyard at midnight that Halloween.

It was a dark and stormy night. Severus thought clichés to be a foreboding omen, and in this instance, he was most likely right. The Little Hangleton Cemetery was terrifying in daylight; by light of the shadows and the dark side of the moon, the graveyard was a horror story in the making. He had arrived five minutes to midnight – he wanted to be prompt to the Marauders meeting, you see – and crept along slowly, making sure the scales of his carefully home-made basilisk costume did not scratch off on any stray granite headstones.

The hanging tree was actually a whomping willow on the far side of the cemetery. Severus didn't think that the willow had actually been used to hang people, but the school rumours that floated around like ghosts said otherwise. Needless to say, he wasn't too keen on approaching the leafless skeletal-looking tree.

An owl hooted off in the distance. Every time Severus stepped on a twig, the resulting _crrrack_ splintered his heart with fear. The shadows seemed to shift and slither about and Severus thought he heard whispers of _something_ but he forced himself to continue towards the hanging tree. Severus wasn't a chicken nor a coward, and he was not about to let the Marauders have the satisfaction of seeing him scared witless. He had to show them that he could have the courage of a lion and be brave too. He had to show them that he could be one of them.

The storm overhead made the air thick and heavy; Severus felt like he was walking towards the guillotine of fate. Electricity prickled against his senses and a shiver rolled down his spine. The owl let out another warning before fleeing invisibly into the darkness. Severus was now the only living breathing thing in the cemetery.

He clutched his pillowcase of candy tight to his chest as if it would provide some semblance of comfort. In the distance a flicker of lightning illuminated the world with a camera flash before the snapshot faded away. The skies overhead rumbled and grumbled in frustration at being interrupted and threatened to rain in retribution. Severus quickened his pace to get to the Whomping Willow. He was currently so terrified that he forgot that a tree wasn't the best place to be while lightning was present.

Suddenly the moon shone brightly through a gap in the storm clouds and the smell of ozone increased. Severus' ears popped from the pressure. He squinted against the sudden glare, and his distracted eyes caught sight of movement behind the grandest white marble mausoleum in the graveyard. What was it, pale and silvery fur but not a ghost –

"NO!" he heard someone yell with James Potter's voice before he was tackled to the ground and his head was knocked onto the base of the willow tree. Lightning struck a few metres away from the hanging tree; Severus distantly thought that perhaps his aluminium foil basilisk scales were perhaps not such a good idea after all. "What were you thinking, Padfoot? You know how paranoid Moony gets when he is hyped up on sugar! Why would you invite Snape to our secret hideout without warning either us or him?"

Severus' vision swam alarmingly and his head throbbed to the point that he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his temple. However, from the ground, Severus was pretty sure he saw a stag, a dog, a rat, and a wolf in that silver-stained moonlight. They were all arguing though in a jumble of senseless syllables, and oddly each animal was standing upright on two legs and hovering over him. They each held a pillowcase bag too – perhaps the animals had been trick-or-treating as well? It made no sense to his throbbing brain. He blinked but could not find the strength to open his eyes ever again on that dark, endless night.

Curiosity killed the basilisk that Halloween.

[-]

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Muggle seven-year-old Sev isn't actually dead; he blacked out and woke up with a concussion the next day. The last line simply refers to the phrase "Curiosity killed the cat" and should not be read literally but in the sense that Sev's too-curious nature is what got him in this flobberworm mess.


	3. peter&voldemort: Secret Keeper

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: JKR is the mastermind behind the HP universe. <strong>

Written for the HPFC Journey Through Hogwarts Challenge "Part One: The Letter (b)"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "48. Tempting"

4 February 2014. Word Count: 198

**"Well? Are you going to make me beg?"**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Secret Keeper<span>**

"The Potters have named you their Secret-Keeper?"

"Y-yes, My Lord," the worm-tailed servant stuttered nervously. Sweat beaded his upper lip and his whole body shook visibly.

A pause. Then: "Well? Are you going to make me beg?"

Peter Pettigrew briefly entertained the idea of having the infallible Dark Lord at his mercy before removing such foolishly tempting dreams from his mind.

"You forget that I am a master Legilimens," Lord Voldemort hissed as he mentally probed Peter's mind. "Make your choice – either way, three deaths will occur tonight." He half-heartedly _Crucio-_ed the snivelling Gryffindor to emphasise his point. Then, with a sweep of his bat-leather cloak and armed with the secrets of the traitor, he Apparated himself to Godric's Hollow to end the heartbeats of the two who had thrice defied him and the one predicted to vanquish him forever.

Peter, left behind yet again, endured the mind-numbing pain left from the Unforgivable. The Potters had never stood a chance against the Dark Lord. Peter waited anxiously in the dark for his master's return and the proof that his betrayal to his friends had ultimately saved his life in the end.

Peter hoped they would understand his decision.


	4. james&lily: Lost in Paradise

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Not my usual genre for this ship, but whatever.<strong>

Written for the HPFC Journey Through Hogwarts Challenge "Part One: Diagon Alley (g. Ollivander's)" [write your OTP and use the quote 'Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.' – Sylvia Plath for inspiration]; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp "23. Fragile"

5 February 2014. Word Count: 270

**He loved her too much.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Lost in Paradise<span>**

He was suffocated by his love for her: somehow she managed to steal the breath out of his lungs and the blood out of his veins. He was a boneless mess whenever she was around, and he was sure that one of these days his fragile heart would be crushed like Atlas from the weight of all the expectations she placed upon him.

James Potter thought the world of Lily Evans. But she was an unattainable queen who tilted her head towards the heavens and whose face was freckled with stardust. Her eyes were cold glittering emeralds as green as the snakes that she wrongly deemed friends instead of foes. James tried to lure her back into the lion's den but she wasn't one to be told what to do. With a toss of her gingersnap hair, she dismissed him out of her mind and pushed him farther out of her orbit.

James resented Snape for stealing **his** Lily away from him. (It was never Lily's fault – she was flawless and perfect in his eyes. He couldn't _hate_ her: he loved her too much.) All James wanted was a chance to show Lily that he was worthy of her love. He wanted her to kiss him - preferably before he graduated from Hogwarts - so she could see how important he was and not the castaway commoner she thought him to be.

And so the poor bloke was blinded with forever tattooed upon his never-whole-to-start-with heart. He misguidedly believed the best of a pitiless queen who had lost her crown to a petunia in a different universe many yesterdays ago.


	5. sirius&marlene: Fly With Me

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer:<strong>

Written for the HPFC Journey Through Hogwarts Challenge "Part One: Diagon Alley (f. Flourish and Blotts) [100-150 drabble]

5 February 2014. Word Count: 149

**"So are you coming?"**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Fly With Me<span>**

"What _is_ that?"

"It's a motorbike." The black curly-haired boy flashed an impish grin at her. "Want a ride?"

She frowned disapprovingly and hugged herself tightly to protect herself from the biting Scottish wind. "Sirius, you're not supposed to have that on campus."

The not-so-serious Sirius rolled his eyes. "Way to sound like Evans, Marlene."

"That wasn't nice," Marlene McKinnon said flatly.

Sirius knew that she and Lily Evans were currently disagreeing about Evans' choice in friends (mainly Snivellus, though Evans refused to admit it.) "All right," he apologised. "Sorry; low blow." He straddled his brand-new motorbike and revved the engine. "So are you coming?"

"Where to?"

That wasn't a flat-out no – Sirius could work with that. "Anywhere you want," he promised.

Marlene's decision had been made long before Sirius had offered. "Away from here." She settled herself behind her leather-clad biker boyfriend and went along for the ride.


	6. marauders&lily: Evergreen

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Does the wizarding world have a magic Santa Claus?<br>**

Written for the HPFC Acrostic-y Competition "The Boy Who Liv**_e_**d" [energy]; Journey Through Hogwarts Challenge "Part One: Diagon Alley (e. Gringotts)" [exchange of gifts]

I posted "The Story of Us" today (it's the first chapter of this collection) so all of you lovelies who missed it the first time around should go read it (:

6 February 2014. Word Count: 941

**"Can you fight later? I want to open presents."**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Evergreen<span>**

[-]

"Everything is exciting! The world is wonderful! There are presents underneath the tree!"

A pillow is tossed across the dormitory and hits a brown-haired boy square in his overly-excited face. "Shuddup, Wormtail," says the sleepy pillow-tosser.

Another boy yawns loudly and stretches his torso with bone-cracking precision. "Tone the energy down, Wormy. If you don't, soon you'll be wetting yourself."

"Sorry," the one named Wormtail says quite unapologetically. "But it's Christmas! There are presents! It's snowing and a beautiful day!"

The pillow-tosser aims another pillow at Wormtail. "And it's also bloody seven in the morning."

The other boy lets out another yawn. "Well, I can't go back to sleep now that I am awake." He fumbles on his nightstand for his glasses. "Come on, Wormy. Let's leave Padfoot to his beauty sleep."

A pillow is chucked at the glasses-wearing boy but he is expecting Padfoot's assault and easily deflects the projectile.

"Gimme back my pillow, Prongs," Padfoot whines from his bed because he had foolishly thrown all of his pillows out.

Prongs laughs and shakes his head. "I don't think so."

"Proooongs," Wormtail whined. "I wanna go open presents _now_."

"Oh, grow up already, Wormy," Padfoot huffs. Wormtail responds to this by sticking his tongue out.

"All right, all right, we're going," Prongs says. He and Wormtail leave the Gryffindor Boys' Dormitory and head to the Common Room where a mountain of presents is heaped underneath the tree.

"Oh boy, oh boy, look at all of this!" Wormtail squeals and dashes for the biggest present he can find.

Prongs is not paying him any attention, though, for a certain redhead has stumbled her way out of the portrait hole and into the Common Room. "Where've you been?" he asks cordially albeit with a slight touch of suspicion.

"Good morning to you too, Potter," she says, ignoring his inquisitive tone. She stands next to him by the sofa and watches Wormtail squeak happily in excitement at the wrapped Christmas presents underneath the Common Room evergreen tree.

"That's not an answer," Prongs replies belligerently, his polite demeanour quickly dissolving into a demanding one.

She rolls her emerald eyes at him and crosses her arms over her chest. "Breakfast," she states curtly.

"With?"

Wormtail watches their row with wide eyes. "_Guys_," he pleads. "Can you fight later? I want to open presents."

Prongs sighs. He knows that she knows that he knows that she had been with Snivellus yet again. It shouldn't bother him so much who she hangs out with but she is _Lily Evans_ and he is _James Potter_ and really, that should explain everything.

"Fine," Prongs acquiesces because he is a peacemaker and tries to avoid conflict with his mates as much as he can. He tries to get up and move closer to the tree but his feet seem to be stuck to the carpet. He shifts his gaze from the ground to Lily because she knows everything and can probably tell him what in the name of Merlin is going on.

She, however, is looking up at the ceiling. Her eyes close briefly in what looks to be resignation before she makes direct eye contact with him. "Mistletoe," she explains quietly.

"Right," he says, feeling uncomfortably warm all of the sudden. "Mistletoe." Wizarding mistletoe follows the same traditions as Muggle mistletoe; however, the plant appears without warning in the magical world and locks the people under it in place until they kiss.

Prongs has dreamt about kissing Lily ever since he found out that girls did not, in fact, have cooties. But he never wanted to force his desires upon her – he was a romantic at heart and had wanted to make their first kiss sappy and perfect.

"Um . . ." he says because what else does a person say when they're about to experience true love's first kiss?

"Kiss me on the cheek, Potter," she requests.

And he's been friend-zoned yet again. His skeleton made of wishbones are splitting right down the middle and the world stops spinning for a moment. But he's a Marauder and known for his quick thinking and so he lies to her: "The magic of wizarding mistletoe makes it so that only lip-to-lip contact works." Prongs is betting on the fact that her Muggleborn status will make her unsure about the traditions of wizarding mistletoe.

"Are you sure?" she asks doubtfully.

He hates to deceive her but it is Christmas and this kiss will probably be the only gift he receives from her. "Positive," he confirms. Just out of Lily's line of vision, Wormtail gives his mate a smarmy thumbs-up sign.

They are two Fifth Years stuck in the moment who are sharing the same breath and the same thoughts. It is messy and inexperienced but something changes within the two of them. Both keep their eyes open during the kiss, wanting to see the other at their most vulnerable state.

"Can I go wake Padfoot and Moony now so we can open all of our gifts?" Wormtail loudly and eagerly interrupts, breaking Prongs and Lily apart as the magic of the mistletoe fades away.

"Go ahead," Prongs says to Wormtail but really speaking to Lily as she scurries away, blushing a rosy red. He knows she is going to pretend their kiss never happened but he has Wormtail as a witness.

It doesn't bother him that she is going to revert back to actively ignoring his existence (though he vows to do everything in his power to capture her attention). Their kiss happened whether she will admit it or not, and that knowledge made him the happiest Gryffindor that Christmas.

[-]


	7. james&lily&sev: Veins of Mud

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: This poem is very organic. I understand that it might seem a bit rough and disjointed in certain stanzas.<br>**

Written for the HPFC Acrostic-y Competition "The Boy Who Li**_v_**ed" [volcano]; Monthly Poetry Flood Competition "Feb 2014: hope"

A stream-of-consciousness freestyle poem from Lily's point-of-view.

9 February 2014. Word Count: 640

**So one must be forgotten while the other is your whole world, moon, and stars.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Veins of Mud<span>**

[-]

Vacant eyes see right through you  
>and you move slightly<br>to  
>the left<br>to avoid being seen.

You are a paradox,  
>an oxymoron (emphasis on the <em>moron<em>)  
>a pretty ugly<br>girl  
>absolutely unsure of who you are.<p>

So he tells you  
>plain and simple after the O.W.L.s<p>

He sticks you in the dirt, puts you in your place  
>one duck stuck in the muck<br>Who can help?  
>(We can, we can)<br>but the answer echoes from a stag and his party of three  
>and you're so sure they only want to see how much farther they can knock you down<br>so you stay on the ground  
>in the mud<br>with dirt clouding your vision and colouring your veins.

**[MUDBLOOD]**

Your thoughts echo his parting words,  
>the ones that severed a friendship that had once been as unbreakable as a vow.<br>Time has erased golden summers  
>and now the grass has faded like a photograph of a long-forgotten memory<br>but you still remember his name  
>and the boy he used to be.<p>

You hope he's still in that stranger's body  
>buried<br>deep down  
>somewhere<br>lost but not forgotten.

That familiar stranger has a name  
>Severus Snivellus Snape<br>you're not so sure who he is anymore but  
>he is Severus Snape.<p>

(you think you once knew a Severus Snape)

It sounds like a foreign language  
>the name hissing off your tongue as if you were a snake<br>but  
>you're a<p>

**[MUDBLOOD]**

and those snakes will never let you be  
>at the top<br>of the food chain  
>even though you're a<br>lioness  
>and you are queen of the jungle.<p>

You belong with the royals  
>but they sneer down upon you<br>and you know it is all because of your blood.

**[MUDBLOOD]**

The power in a name  
>bubbling up from deep inside your volcanic personality<br>pressurized and threatening to overflow  
>with fiery rage and all-consuming destruction<br>mud leaking out of your pores  
>the earth quaking out from underneath your feet<p>

that's who you are now.

Once upon a time  
>you were a delicate fairytale with a flower name<br>and you lived in a never-ending day at the spot where the ocean and sky kiss.  
>You had an equal<br>another princess with a petal name  
>and together you ruled the world where the horizon joins the night and day in an eternal embrace.<p>

But she left you  
>a foreshadow that he would too<br>and now you are alone  
>and so very lonely<br>existing in a world of magic because your real life is tragic.

You are sitting by the lake one December night  
>reliving the past because you are still stuck<br>in the mud  
>(and the dirt poisons your mind and clogs your veins)<br>but a stag comes along  
>and carries the world on his antlers.<p>

He sees you  
>perhaps a little too well<br>but maybe the way he notices you too much will balance out  
>the way Severus is forgetting you.<p>

And James Potter is hopeful  
>because Lily Evans is no longer pretending that he does not exist<br>But you (Lily Evans) only want to escape the past  
>and to do so you have to reverse James' and Severus' roles in your life<p>

So one must be forgotten  
>while the other is your whole world, moon, and stars.<p>

When James looks at you, he sees a Muggleborn  
>When Severus looks at you, he sees a [Mudblood]<br>When you see yourself  
>well<br>those are your vacant green eyes trying to look for  
>someone or something<br>in the reflection of nothing in the glassy mirror of the lake.

The dusk and dawn greet each other on the horizon like lost lovers  
>and you spin your life towards a better, brighter future<br>one with James Potter  
>and not with Severus Snape.<p>

Maybe James can teach you how to see yourself  
>the way Severus never could.<p>

(Severus who?)

[-]


	8. sirius&lily: Starry Night

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: short and sweet, just the way I like it.<br>**

Written for the HPFC Monthly Poetry Flood Competition "Feb 2014: hope". I'm experimenting with the poetic device _enjambment_ in this poem. And yes, I included an allusion to my favourite novel (:

12 February 2014. Word Count: 117

**I would write your name into the sky.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Starry Night<br>**

I would write your name into the sky  
>but a star has already claimed your light.<p>

The same light that eclipses a younger star into the shadows of its brother,  
>shading the rainbow in fiery hues of gold and crimson that smother.<p>

The green light _(go) _reaching back into the past for a daisy flower  
>but you've plucked up a Lily instead in this April rain shower.<p>

The Light that you fight for to vanquish the Dark,  
>the Light of hope to rid this magical world of its prejudiced scars.<p>

If I could, I would decorate your name with constellations of the night  
>But that would mean you'd have to be Sirius for once in your life.<p> 


	9. petunia: Not All Are Bad

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer:<br>**

Written for the HPFC Acrostic-y Competition "The Va**_n_**ishing Glass"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "2. canon"

15 February 2014. Word Count: 409

**All flowers need to be cultivated with tender care.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Not All Are Bad<span>**

[-]

Nice people did not get anywhere in life and no one knew that fact better than Petunia Evans. As the elder Evans daughter, _she_ deserved to be adored and fawned over. However, the moment her ungrateful little wretch of a sister had been born, the spotlight had been stolen from Petunia.

No matter what Petunia did, everyone constantly gave Lily all of the attention. Though Petunia had only been on the cusp of her second year when Lily was born, she could vividly remember life before her sister sapped away all of the interest from the eldest Evans daughter. In her younger years, people wrongly assumed that Petunia's jealousy stemmed from typical sibling rivalry. However, as the two Evans sisters blossomed through adolescence, people began to pretend that Petunia did not exist in favour of indulging Lily's frivolous wants and wishes.

Petunia knew that life wasn't fair, but still, what had she done to draw the short stick? All of the beautiful _magical_ genes seemed to be magnetically drawn to Lily, bequeathing Petunia with all of the other unwanted rubbish. She was left with a snooty disposition, unattractive horse-ish features, and a perfectionist complex while Lily – faultless, wonderful, beautiful Lily – was granted with everything that Petunia ought to have had.

She detested her sister for taking away everything that was rightfully Petunia's. Their parents' attention was spent watching in rapt fascination as Lily mock-practised her spells with a tree branch from the back garden instead of congratulating Petunia on her flawless exam scores or acceptance into Oxford. _Not now, Petunia_, the Evans family's favourite phrase, became a euphemism for _you're-not-Lily-so-it-must-not-be-as-important_.

All flowers need to be cultivated with tender care. They need stable support, sunlight, and nutrients to be healthy so they can achieve their full potential. Lily had her parents to ground her and shine golden praise upon her. Petunia had no one – she never did like to share – but she made do and found solace in Vernon Dursley. Perhaps he wasn't the brightest star in the sky, but he did keep her from withering away into the shadows.

Lily was nice, boringly so, but she expected everything to be handed to her on a silver platter. She was fragile, too, and it seemed that she had made some enemies in her freak world. Reflecting back on her own life, Petunia surmised that perhaps she had been luckier in the long run for she was the surviving Evans flower.

[-]


	10. lily: Legendary

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Not my best work, but whatever.<br>**

Written for Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "8. poetry"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "21. fairytale"; Monthly Poetry Flood "March 2014: tired"

9 March 2014. Word Count: 226

**This is the legend of Lily Evans.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Legendary<br>**

[-]

"Once upon a time" is how all of the fairytales begin  
>but Lily Evans doesn't want to be a princess<br>or even a damsel in distress.

She can compromise and trade her sword in for a wand  
>fly on dragons instead of broomsticks<br>fight off prejudice instead of pirate ships  
>and help the world see right from wrong.<p>

She's tired of the world being saved by boys who don't know what they're doing  
>she's tired of sitting on the sidelines pretending that she does not exist.<br>She wants to make a difference and be recognised for her intelligence  
>instead of being discriminated against.<p>

"Oh, you're a girl, you don't know anything substantial"  
>"Shouldn't you be at home cooking in the kitchen?"<br>(She'd really like to teach all of those ignorant chauvinistic pigs  
>a thing or two about feminism.)<p>

When you hear of a heroine who values personality over heritage  
>know that it's her.<br>When you hear of a girl who isn't afraid to attack James Potter's hero complex  
>know that it's her.<br>When you hear of Lily Evans, the person who is advocating equal rights for all magical people and creatures  
>know that it's her.<p>

This is the legend of Lily Evans  
>a modern day queen without the crown and kingdom.<br>Her story doesn't start with "Once upon a time"  
>but instead with "Way back when".<p>

[-]


	11. james&lily: Death's Door

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer:<strong>

Written for The Battleship Challenge "James/Lily" ; Before I Fall Challenge "2. They say that just before you die your whole life flashes before your eyes." ; Divergent Competition Abnegation "1. There is power in self-sacrifice." ; Monopoly Challenge "Boardwalk: genre - suspense ; prompt - haunt ; canon" ; Oh The Thinks You Can Think Competition "Bartholomew Cubbins - write about an unlikely hero" ; Supernatural Title Episode Challenge "136. Death's Door" ; Book Thief Quotes Challenge "13. For some reason, dying men always ask the question they know the answer to. Perhaps it's so they can die being right." ; It's Not Your Story Challenge ; Wand Wood Competition "Cypress" ; Crayon Colour Challenge "91. Scarlet" ; Disney Character Competition "Hook-Hand Thug"

22 May 2014. Inspired by "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" by Bob Dylan. Word Count:

**Halloween was a rough night for spirits.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Death's Door<strong>

[-]

There is a story about a lion who is afraid of his own shadow; whose bones quake with fear; who is so ashamed that he cannot live up to his reputation as the "King of Beasts" that he ceases to live at all. He creates this fault within himself and poisons his mind with delusions. His fear slowly eats him alive and turns him into his greatest enemy. But right when he's on the brink of death, a wizard gives him liquid courage to drink. Suddenly, he's not so cowardly anymore. Suddenly, he's the unlikely hero and the bravest the girl with scarlet ruby slippers has ever come to known.

Did the lion live happily ever after? I'm afraid to say that I do not know the answer to that; the author never wrote an absolute ending for the lion. But in this story, I think the lion's time has come to prove his bravery and courage once more.

We shall see how he fares and if he will live to tell this tale.

x

They say that just before you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. I can tell you for a fact that is not true. Then again, I've never died, so you might not want to take my words at face value. It's your prerogative.

From what I can tell, humans are always haunted by their dreams. No, not the sleeping kind, but the make-a-wish-on-a-shooting-star kind. These are the impossible dreams humans want but never attain: graduate college, fly to the moon, discover a new element, become a millionaire, serve a term as Prime Minister, etc. Silly things like that. They all know those dreams will never come true, yet they pour their little hearts into believing that in some other parallel universe their greatest fantasies will prevail. Humans are curious, fascinating creatures, are they not?

But I digress. Humans cannot take these dreams with them into the afterlife; when they die, so do their dreams. It's kind of morbid when I say it like that but there's nothing about death that isn't morbid. Dying isn't a glorified process. Sure, the survivors might make you a martyr if you experiment with the power of self-sacrifice - then again, they may not honour you in death. Too bad you won't know of their decision until you are six feet under.

She came to me one Halloween evening when the ghosts were the most alive and the living were reduced to souls carrying around corpses for the night. She was dead in the most simplest of ways - no heartbeat, no lungs to inhale in the pain and exhale happiness. She was quiet, which was a relief. Halloween was a rough night for spirits.

"I can't go back, can I?" she asked rhetorically. I was feeling generous, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. No use in crushing the sole dream of a dead person. (I must've also been feeling particularly humorous to be making a pun.)

Something like liquid silver came leaking out of her eyes. It was quite peculiar. I'd seen other souls have the same response when they realised they were beyond the realm of the living, but I'd never thought to inquire about her visceral reaction.

I wish I had. Perhaps she could have told me why she was sad.

x

The woman stayed with me for quite some time - longer than most, if memory serves me right. She said she was waiting for someone. She told me a lot of things to pass the time, but she never told me who she was waiting for.

"Do you want to know how I died?" she once asked me when business was slow.

Of course I was curious - no other soul had bothered with sharing the sordid details of their short, miserable life. She correctly interpreted my silence in the affirmative and began outlining her tragedy with me as her captive audience.

"I fell in love with the wrong man," she started.

I was quite shocked at this scandalous confession. Weren't humans allowed to fall in love only a single time in their lifetime? Was it actually possible for them to have more than one soul mate? My poor head spun at the endless infinity she had created with her opening sentence.

"It was mostly my fault for deceiving him. He thought he loved me, but I know he only loved the person he thought I was. I pretended to be feisty and remarkable for years just to win his affections. If he were here, he'd say that he loved me first which would negate all that I am telling you, but he was infamous for being wrong. I'm not brave; not at all. If I were brave, why would I still be lingering here in this in-between place? You've already told me that I cannot become a ghost. Why am I still here?" Again, the liquid precipitation fell from her cloudy eyes. "I'm scared, Death. I don't want to move on. I'm a coward posing as a lion, and my lies keep hurting everyone around me. Did you know he died for me?"

I did know that.

"The door was blast open and the Dark Lord was there. James told me to take Harry and run, but I couldn't! I couldn't leave him alone and defenceless but self-preservation made me want to abandon him. And then . . . then when I s-saw the g-g-green light, I knew there was no hope. The Dark Lord made me choose between my baby, my husband, or me. Sometimes, I think I made the wrong choice." She whispered the last part: "But I loved him."

He loved her, too. In the moments before he came to me, he spoke his last words as a mortal. With his last breath, he asked if Lily Evans would find him in the afterlife. And look, here he comes now. (Thank goodness. I was getting a little tired of hearing her sob story over and over again.) For some reason, dying men always ask the question they know the answer to. Perhaps it's so they can die being right.

"My brave, brave lion," he greeted her with a proud smile.

[-]


	12. sev&lily: The Story of Us

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever.<strong>

Written for the HPFC Dauntless Competition "Stage One Round Three: Fighting"; Cinema Competition "Black Swan"; Numerology Challenge "One- The Agent"; The Star Challenge "Adara"; Duct Tape Challenge "Camouflage"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "24. Pride"; The Off the Block Competition "Freestyle Hard"; Star Light, Star Bright challenge "Red Dwarf" (romance OTP); Journey Through Hogwarts Challenge "Part One: Diagon Alley (f. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions)". Inspired by Taylor Swift's "The Story of Us" and chapter 33 in Deathly Hallows.

I've fallen in love with tragedies lately. I don't know how many times I have written the Sev / Lily catastrophe – and I know the ending will always be the same – but these two deer-ies (oh Merlin, did I just make a pun?) have an immortal kind of doomed love.

This is for Rose (She who is made of stars) because she is the darling who taught me about the beauty and magic of headcanons.

6 February 2014. Word Count: 3,042

**She was his Achilles' heel.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>The Story of Us<br>**

table of contents:  
>prologue: once upon a time.<br>i. boy sees girl.  
>ii. girl meets boy.<br>iii. hogwarts.  
>iv. always.<br>v. legacy.  
>vi. the end.<p>

[-]

prologue: once upon a time.

"Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering."  
>~Nicole Krauss, <em>The History of Love<em>.

[-]

i. chapter one: boy sees girl.

The story starts in the summer. He was minding his own business while playing in the sandbox in the neighbourhood playground. The sky was a bland sky-blue; the grass a generic grass-green. He sat in the sand and used the clouds to solve puzzles in the sky. His life was as boring as his personality.

And then _she_ came along.

It was dramatic and stars were aligning and he just _had_ to stop and stare at her. She was beautiful in a timeless sort of way, with her scarlet princess ringlets and crown of linked daisies on her head. She was barefoot and dirt-smudged and there were a constellation of freckles dotting her pearly shoulders, but those flaws made her flawless in his eyes. She was with an older girl who wasn't as beautiful, wasn't as timeless, or who wore flowers in her hair. They were playing over by the willow tree across the lake from where his sandbox was. They didn't notice him but he noticed them. Well, specifically _her_.

He couldn't help but observe her. She was magical – literally. Across the lake, she was making a flower open and close its petals like an oyster slowly revealing its pearl. The other girl was freaking out and demanding for the pretty one to _Stop it now, Lily, or else_. But the daisy princess, _Lily_, smiled serenely like a hippie queen and let the flower fly away in the breeze. She linked her arm through the older girl's and told her _You needn't be afraid of it, Tuney_. The other girl scoffed and looked back at the flower floating away. _What a freak_, the not-so-beautiful one mouthed with her head turned away so that he could see her spiteful words while Lily remained oblivious.

A surprising fiery rage raced through his veins, and he had the odd urge to march across the lake and defend his daisy princess's honour. But Severus Snape was no knight in shining armour and he let Lily walk away from him.

It wouldn't be the first time in his life that he didn't have the courage to speak now.

ii. chapter two: girl meets boy.

She returned to the water's edge but he could never muster the valour to go talk to her. Eventually, she did see him and his cloud-y painted pictures in the sky. It was a Tuesday when she (finally!) approached him in the sandbox.

"Hello," she smiled as her periwinkle-painted toes squished in the sand. "I'm Lily."

"I know," he blurted out because he was awkward and had no verbal filter when it came to this pretty girl.

To her credit, she remained unfazed by his verbal faux pas. "Do you live nearby? I think I've seen you around before."

_She_ had noticed _him_? Impossible. He was quite sure he was invisible to every living soul in this world - _no_ one ever paid attention to Severus Snape unless they absolutely had to. He was rather baffled that his daisy princess had taken note of a lowly plebeian like himself.

"Er, y-yeah. Spinner's End-d," he managed to stutter out. Then, in a moment of desperation to seem cool, he introduced himself the way he had seen a slick Muggle guy do it in a film: "The name's Snape. Severus Snape."

She laughed in response, a soft free sound filled with the promise of forever. It echoed with questions and reverberated with stardusted magic. He knew then that Tuesday that he loved her and that he wanted to spend his whole life answering the questions in her laughter. They wasted away the rest of that sparkling summer sitting there by the water. He put his arm around her sun-kissed shoulders and let somebody in close to him for the first time. He made a rebel out of a careless man's careful daughter, and she told him he was the best thing that's ever been hers.

It was the golden age of something right and real, and they were the lucky ones who never saw the ending coming until it was too late.

iii. chapter three: hogwarts.

She was Sorted into Gryffindor. He had always known that she was far braver than him but Slytherins could be brave too. She smiled sadly at him as she went to go face her fate in the lion's den. Both of them knew he wouldn't be joining her in that House.

They fought valiantly over the years to remain the best of friends despite what everyone else predicted. She was a scarlet letter, forbidden to him by his House rules simply because of her muddy blood type. He was a slimy Slytherin git (her House wasn't quite as poetic with their insults like his was) who was a bad influence and would supposedly only end up betraying her. Severus knew he was walking a fragile line concerning his loyalties to Slytherin or to her, but Lily had to have known she would always be his first choice.

In Fifth Year, he lost his balance on the tightrope. He said something he shouldn't have and his words broke her into a million pieces. She saw it as the point of no return where he had made his decision to be with the Death Eaters and their awful morbid beliefs instead of with her; he saw that day as a cruel twist of fate where a simple complication led to miscommunication and the inevitable fall out.

He tried to make things right but she put up so many walls between them that he had no hope of breaking through her defences. _You could be brilliant, but you're a coward,_ she sneered the one time he had gone to her to apologise. There were so many things Severus wished Lily knew - he loved and missed her, didn't she realise that? But she was too busy holding her head up high with that ridiculous Gryffindor pride instead of holding him in her arms.

Severus used to know that his place was the spot right next to her; now he found himself searching the crowded Transfiguration room for an empty seat. He stole a look at her – she was sitting alone in a sea of Gryffindors, looking quite uncomfortable and out of place. It pained him to think that she would rather choose _them_ and their ignorance over him, her best friend. They spent the whole lesson like that, playing a contest of who-can-act-like-they-care-less, but the whole time Severus was remembering when she was on his side instead of theirs. He nervously pulled at his clothes and tried to look busy while she did her best to avoid him. He was dying to know if the absurdly loud silence between the two of them was killing her like it was slowly but surely killing him.

She began to hang out with Potter and his idiots during the time used to spend sitting by the lake with him. He watched on spitefully from the passenger side as she threw her head back laughing like a little kid at one of Potter's jokes – he remembered the glory days when she would scoff and roll her eyes at Potter's lack of brain cells.

If anything, her betrayal pushed him farther into the arms of the Death Eaters. Severus couldn't understand why she was being such a hypocrite and going against everything she had once said against Potter. The Lily Evans she was now was never who his daisy princess had been.

And he missed her, or perhaps it was the memory of her that he missed, but with each passing day he failed to notice his chances to speak now and tell her his side of the story. When he finally gathered the courage to make amends, it was too late: his fate had been sealed in with the Dark Mark on his left arm.

It was official; they were on opposite sides now. He was so scared to see the ending because he was certain their story could only conclude as a tragedy.

iv. chapter four: always.

He heard a prophecy that concerned his master and immediately recited the broken fragments that he had eavesdropped upon. But then the Dark Lord mentioned _Potter_– her name – and that she was expecting a child the same time around the date the prophesised. Severus forced himself to remain calm (he couldn't reveal that his loyalties had always been divided between her and the Dark Lord) but inside he was panicking. He had just put the woman he loved, the one he had vowed to keep safe forever and always, in mortal danger.

So he went to the one person who he knew could be trusted with his secret, and he begged for destiny to be rewritten. But the man behind the half-moon spectacles shook his head solemnly and chastised Severus for dreaming impossible dreams.

"You disgust me," the elder wizard spat out. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

"Hide them all, then," he pleaded even though it physically hurt him to want to keep his arch-nemesis safe. But his daisy princess had chosen a happily ever after with a prince charming who wasn't Severus, and so he had to do everything he could from the sidelines. "Keep her – them – safe. Please."

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

Severus thought over the question for a moment, but he's already sacrificed his heart for Lily, his mind to the Dark Lord, and his soul to Dumbledore. There's nothing left that was of value to him personally anymore.

"Anything," he said, and he meant it.

But the hands of Fate had dealt an awful set of cards to him, and it seemed to be that tragedy and death were all that Severus Snape was to be destined to.

"I thought...you were going...to keep her... safe..."

"Trust is a tricky thing, Severus. Some cannot handle the responsibility that comes with it." Dumbledore paused and stared at the broken boy who loved a Gryffindor girl unconditionally. "Her boy survives."

Severus doesn't _want_ her son to live – especially since the repulsive thing is half-Potter – he _wants_ Lily to still be alive, Salazar dammit! "I wish...I wish _I_ were dead..."

"And what use would that be to anyone? If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

Severus' heart shatters a bit more at that – how could Dumbledore ever doubt Severus' love for Lily? –

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."

A pause, then: "Very well. But never – never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear...especially Potter's son...I want your word!" His vow was a bitter pill to swallow but he made himself promise because this was for Lily, everything he had ever done was always for Lily.

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" Dumbledore sighed, looking down into the Slytherin's anguished face. "If you insist..."

Severus was always one to keep his promises but that Potter boy really made him doubt his word. He couldn't see anything of his daisy princess in that mediocre, arrogant, rule-breaker. But Merlin help him, those eyes were hers, and he felt his heart shattering yet again when those green eyes glared at him in loathing.

_I'm sorry, Lily, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I never wanted this. I'm losing my mind thinking you're here with me at Hogwarts again but it's just your son and I'll save him like I couldn't save you. I promise, Lily, I will never fail you again._

But karma was a bitch and his mistake of giving the Dark Lord the prophecy continued to haunt Severus in all of his waking moments. The Dark Lord was determined to eradicate the Potter boy at all costs. First it was with Quirrell, then the blasted Chamber, and now the Triwizard Tournament threatened Potter's life with each task. Additionally, Karkaroff had sought him out to compare Dark Marks – Igor never would've revealed their inked secrets unless he thought the Dark Lord was actually rising again.

"He is panicking," Severus informed Dumbledore quietly at the end of the Yule Ball. "He fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell. Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns."

"Does he?" Dumbledore repeated rhetorically. He nodded as if this had occurred to him before. "And are you tempted to join him?"

"No," was Severus' reply. What would his brave flower queen think of him then? "I am not such a coward."

Lily's last words to Severus echoed through his mind: _You could be brilliant, but you're a coward._ Severus despised his younger self for being careless with her and their friendship. He never did deserve her love, he realised, so now he was trying to redeem himself. His whole life revolved around Lily Evans: she was his Achilles' heel.

Dumbledore smiled softly. "No," he agreed. "You are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon ..."

Was it true? Had he picked up on Lily's selflessness and Gryffindor gallantry during all of this? He curled his lip in disgust. Severus, a Gryffindor? _Never_.

And then Fate laid the final bombshell on Severus: the Potter boy must die despite all of Severus' best efforts.

"I thought...all these years...that we were protecting him for her. For Lily." Severus tried to make sense of what Dumbledore was telling him. "You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?"

"Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?"

"Lately, only those whom I could not save." _I promised you, Lily, that I would protect your son. I can't stop, you know that. No one can make me break that promise; not even Dumbledore._

"Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?" Dumbledore asked, misinterpreting Severus' horror at the situation.

"For _him_?" shouted Severus. It was never for the Potter boy. It was always, _always_ for her. For Lily, his daisy princess. For the girl who was barefoot and liked starry nights and was the first one to think he was special and deserved to be loved like anyone else. "_Expecto Patronum!_"

"After all this time?" Dumbledore asked quietly while he watched the silver doe trot away after she nuzzled Severus.

"Always," was his reply, each and every time for the rest of his life.

v. chapter five: legacy.

Dumbledore had made Severus promise to cast the Killing Curse before the other Death Eaters had the chance. Severus hated himself as the words left his lips and the green light flashed and Dumbledore flew spread-eagled out of the Astronomy Tower's window. But Severus knew that Dumbledore had been right yet again: when the curse was cast, Severus' soul had not been damaged as he had feared, for this was for the greater good (as Dumbledore was always preaching about).

Severus hated Dumbledore for being right even in death.

He was running away now with Draco because they were both supposedly _traitors_. And shit, here came Potter, stupid and impulsive as usual with fury and no logic guiding his actions.

"_Cruc_ –" but Severus was determined to honour Dumbledore's wishes to keep Harry's soul intact and not ripped apart by an Unforgivable. He blocked the spell – the Potter boy did not have the nerve or the ability to perform an Unforgivable with enough power – and continued to deflect the other mediocre spells the boy aimed at him in his rage.

"Fight back!" the spawn of Potter screamed at him. "Fight back, you cowardly –"

Dumbledore told him to protect the boy, and Severus had promised Lily that he would keep the boy out of harm's way; but _Merlin_, he wanted to curse and hex that ungrateful little Potter shit. The boy was such a narcissist and never realised the other plans in motion that governed the wizarding world besides the whole trivial Boy Who Lived vs. Dark Lord feud.

"Coward, did you call me, Potter? Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"

In the distance, the other staff and students at Hogwarts had finally come to their senses; now, they were hurrying out of the castle to fight and Severus noted that his window of opportunity was quickly shutting. "Now _come_!" he yelled at his other 'comrades'. They had to leave; there was no time to be wasted. But Severus didn't trust any of them to not take a shot at Potter while the boy was wandless on the ground. As the others fled, Severus made sure to protect Potter the best he could before his escape.

He underestimated Potter, though, and felt the telltale feeling of nonverbal magic. "No, Potter!" he yelled before the stupid tosser could finish the _Levicorpus_ spell. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them – I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you?"

"Kill me then," Potter spat out, staring at Severus with those lily-green eyes. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward – "

"DON'T –" he yelled out in agony, for it wasn't Potter's eyes glaring murderously at him – it was Lily's and he was transported back to his Fifth Year when she told him he could be brilliant, but no, he was a _coward_ instead – and he _hated_ that word as much as he abhorred the word 'mudblood' because it reminded him of the biggest mistake in his life"–CALL ME COWARD!"

It was only after the Dark Lord's snake attacked him and his life bled out on to the Shrieking Shack's floor when Severus allowed Potter access into his memories. He looked into those green eyes – _Lily's_ eyes – and let himself stop answering the questions in her laughter.

_I'm sorry, Lily, I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to save either you or him. Forgive me, love. _

vi. chapter six: the end.

[-]


	13. marlene: Ships are Sailing

**Author's Note:**

27 August 2014. Word Count:

**It would be like a heaven on a boat.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Ships are Sailing<br>**

[-]

When Lily mentioned a cruise, Marlene immediately thought of the summer sun and getting gorgeously tan while lounging by the pool deck. She's already mentally packing her teeny bikinis and her big floppy hat. The salt and sea breeze would be tousling her hair into a gorgeous mermaid mess. All the hot cabana boys would be waiting on her, and every hour would be pina colada hour. It would be like a heaven on a boat.

What she was not expecting was choppy waves, getting food poisoning on the second day, and Lily ditching her to go snog with a cute cabana guy. (So not fair.) But, of course, since she's Marlene, that is exactly what happened.

"Lily," Marlene whines on the third day of the cruise. She's lying in bed and moaning and groaning because that is what Marlene McKinnon does best. "Doctor me. Make me feel better. Or make me a potion to cure and grant immunity to me."

"Oh, sweetie," Lily says, smiling in to the mirror as she applies blush on her cheeks. "I would if I could but I'm already running late to meet up with James after his 9 o'clock shift."

"James?" Marlene croaks out.

"Hot cabana guy," Lily clarifies as if it will explain everything. (It does.)

"I would be too - that is, meeting up with my boating babe - if I weren't so frick-fracking sick," she grumbles back.

"Why don't you go lie out in the sun? Get some fresh air and a change of scenery. It'll probably do you some good."

"I'm not too keen on vomiting on complete strangers, thanks," Marlene replies.

"Mhmm, sounds great, Marley. I'll see you at noon. Be good and stay out of trouble," Lily says distractedly before she's out the cabin door.

Lily's great at subtly pushing Marlene to do things that sound good at first (case in point: when Marlene signed up for this goddamn cruise). This talent of Lily's is what gets Marlene up off her sick butt and out into the world of living people who are so sloshed that they don't wrinkle their nose at the distinct smell of puke that perfumes Marlene's clothes. Marlene takes Lily's advice and plops down on a plastic lounge chair nearby the blindingly blue pool in the centre of the ship. She is just slipping on her Ray Bans when:

"The name is Black. Sirius Black. You kind of look like a corpse and smell like death, but hey, you're still pretty hot."

"Pardon?" Marlene frowns at the tactless dripping wet man in swim trunks (who's pretty hot, himself) who had the audacity to interrupt her vitamin D time.

He smiles - no, it's more of a smirk - and says: "Nah, it's all right. I'm not really into necrophilia, anyway."

"You're disgusting," Marlene tells him and promptly throws up all over him.

She really hates cruise ships and she's willing to bet that this Sirius Black does, too.

[-]


	14. marauders&lily: Change

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: sort-of historically accurate but I haven't taken Texas History in five years, so no promises.<br>**

Written for the QL competition (round three, puddles chaser two: "Don't take yourself too seriously. And don't be too serious about not taking yourself too seriously." - Howard Ogden ; "Choose it or lose it" ; "Do what you want." ; establishment of a democracy) ; Wand Wood Competition "Poplar" ; Divergent Competition Abnegation quote 2. "They died for me."

7 June 2014. Re-posted 19 October 2014. Inspired by "Change" by Taylor Swift. Word Count: 2,098

**"This is a revolution - you have to want it."  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Change<span>**

[-]

**i. October 2, 1835: The Loose Cannon.**

He is twenty the first time he dies.

You weren't there, but the story echoes within your bones and breathes life into your rebellion-starved veins. The story has been told so many times that the enemies' numbers keep getting bigger and bigger while the rebels become braver and more heroic with each re-telling. Fact blurs with fiction, and your head spins as you try to discern the exaggerations from the truth.

Sirius is telling the story tonight. He's always been a hyperbolic man with a flair for melodrama, and he never seems to take himself seriously. His pretentiousness makes you yawn but the urgency he speaks with has you intrigued. He leans in, his eyes shadowed in the smokey firelight. He cannot wait to capture and reel you in with his hook, line, and sinker.

This story, the one about Castañeda, a cannon, and a saucy battle cry of COME AND GET IT, is his favourite to tell. The Battle of Gonzales is recognised as the official start of the Texan revolution against Mexico. To you, however, it's not the start as much as it is an ending. Perhaps it's your cynicism that sours your opinions, but you're positive none of the Texans are going to make it out of this war alive. Your troops are outnumbered and untrained. You're not only fighting against your colonizers but the Native American tribes that border your cities. Fighting for independence and secession is the least of your problems when compared to the day-to-day obstacles of base camp raids and fatally contagious diseases that spread quicker than wildfires in the Texan prairies.

You're certain that this battle will be lost before it even begins.

General Albus Longbeard assesses all of you while Sirius continues to monopolise the conversation. He is the mastermind behind this entire rebellion against the Mexican president Gellerto, and although you are quite positive General Longbeard has a specific and personal grudge against Gellerto instead of a vendetta for all of Mexico, you are careful not to voice this assumption out loud. You are already breaking so many rules by being here at the meeting. The Order of the Phoenix was once a ragtag team of rebels, but the win at Gonzales - which Sirius is actively demonstrating yet again - has made the Texans more confident in their decision to rebel against the Mexican government. Tonight is a delayed celebration of the battle's victory, though it looks more like an excuse for cowboys to get piss-drunk.

"You shoulda seen 'im!" Sirius slurs out, gesturing with a sloshing tankard in the direction of the battle hero. "Jaime 'bout had them Mexicans shitting in their pants. An' he was yellin' _come and get it_ like his life depended on seein' 'em die tryin' to get their damned cannon back. Here's hopin' ya make a speedy recovery so you can hand them their ass on a silver platter again. To Jaime!"

"To Jaime!" everyone in the Order choruses back.

The injured youth sitting next to you smirks wryly at their toasts to his good health and passion on the battlefield. His left arm is bandaged up in a sling ("stray piece of cannonball shrapnel pierced him to the bone," Sirius loudly explains to anyone stupid enough to listen). He is proud - much too proud, really - of his wound.

"Means I'm still alive, you see," he tells you with his natural arrogance. His logic is twisted with the bloody glory of his victory. "I'm not dead like my opponent."

"You killed someone?" you ask, horrified by Jaime's confession.

He stares at you with eyes emptier than the graveyard of starlight shining overhead. "I had to, Evans," he says softly. "It was my life or theirs." Jaime looks unsure of himself after saying this as if he is letting himself feel guilty for taking a life. "I had to," he repeats, simultaneously sounding younger and older than his sixteen years.

It sounds like he is trying to reassure himself instead of convincing you about the necessity of his murder.

**ii. March 9, 1836: Remember The Alamo.**

"Jaime! Jaime, sir, you need to read this. It's a letter, sir. A letter from the Alamo," a sandy-haired, rat-faced boy interrupts as he dashes frantically into the makeshift camp.

Jaime breaks off mid-sentence and stares at the letter as if it is a stick of dynamite that is about to explode. "Sirius," he breathes and snatches the letter with red-hot hands. His eyes pore over the writing as he engrosses himself in what his best mate has to say from the fort in San Antonio.

You remember back in January, General Longbeard had asked for thirty volunteers to go tear down the old fort. Sirius and Jaime had been two of the first to be nominated. Sirius led the expedition a few days later; Jaime, however, opted to stay behind and work with the committee who were drafting the Texan Declaration of Independence. Everyone thought he declined to opportunity to go to San Antonio because he wanted a break from being in the midst of a war zone. Only you and Jaime know that he declined because both of you had confessed your love to each other seventeen hours earlier. You promised to become a package deal - where one went, the other followed. Your survival was tied to his and vice versa. If there was anything Jaime wanted from his war-torn world, it was for you to be safe and alive.

It wasn't that the Alamo was a dangerous mission; it was just simply too close to Mexican territory for Jaime's liking. Thus, it resulted in the two of you staying behind to deal with the legal and documentary part of the revolution - yes, people now called it a revolution because the rebellion is going to succeed, no question about it.

"Shit," Jaime swears, and you cringe as your mind conjures all sorts of terrible reasons why your significant other is cursing. "Bloody fucking hell!"

"Sir?" the messenger boy tentatively asks.

"Not now, Pedro!" Jaime snarls.

"But the reports need to be made and the plan of action needs to be announced not to mention the obituaries and promotions - "

"TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY MEN HAVE DIED AND YOU'RE CONCERNED ABOUT THE GODDAMN PROMOTIONS?" he bellows in response.

The boy pales. "Sir, I did not know - "

You subtly place yourself between Pedro and Jaime in case he literally decides to shoot the messenger. "Perhaps it would be best if you leave," you murmur to the boy. He nods, eyes wide with fright, before scampering off.

Jaime lets out a feral roar and stomps over to a nearby tree. He crumples up the letter in his right fist and proceeds to punch the unyielding trunk. He bruises his knuckles and shreds the skin that once protected them until his hand is a bloody pulp and stains the letter red, the colour of angry men.

His anger fades as quickly as it came. Jaime sinks down to the earth and leans his back against the tree trunk. "Two hundred and fifty," he repeats in a disbelieving, hollow voice. "Not all Texans, and not all soldiers. Some were Anglos and women and children. It wasn't a fair fight, Evans. How were they supposed to survive against a thirteen-day siege?"

"I thought Bowie and Black called for reinforcements?" The last you remember hearing about the Alamo was that the expedition decided to rebuild and occupy the fort rather than demolish it. Bowie's call for aid had occurred in the middle of February.

"They were outnumbered: fifteen hundred to a mere two-fifty. The Mexicans raided the fort and then cornered the Texan defenders. No one was spared."

"Not even Black?" Your voice is quiet; you're not sure that you want to hear Jaime's response confirming the inevitable.

His Adam's apple bobs. "Not even . . . ." he replies in a broken voice. He cannot finish his sentence and instead looks away. "There were a handful of survivors but they . . . they were civilians."

"He died for the revolution," you say softly but firmly. "He died for you, for me, for all of us. Sirius died a proud death, honouring what he believed in until the very end."

Jaime lets out a choked sob at the mention of his best mate's name. "I'm sick of this, Evans," he admits. "I'm so fucking sick of being beaten down and having history repeat itself endlessly. I'm sick of the heart-wrenching pain of seeing my mates alive one day and then lifeless the next. I'm sick of Gellerto's dictatorship and fighting for an independence that seems so intangible and - "

"Hey," you sharply cut into his rant. "Texas has already declared our independence - do you not remember signing the document a week ago? March 2nd is a day that will go down in the history books, Jaime. We've already _won_. They might be bigger, but we're faster and never scared. These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down. This is a revolution - you have to want it, Jaime. You have to choose it or else you'll lose it. Do what you want but don't you _dare_ give up."

He sighs and stares at the bloody mess of his knuckles and the ruined letter still clutched within his fist. "Promise me that these things will change?"

"I swear I'll do anything to see a victory in our hands."

**iii. April 21, 1863: Halle-fucking-lujah.**

You've come a long way since last year. The revolution has taken a toll on your heart and spirit for the better and for the worse. The Texan armies were smaller and less-trained than their Mexican opponents, yet they fared less casualties. Still, each death was a mind-numbing blow to the Order. Every member had been a friend, a brother, and a comrade. General Longbeard seemed to age a few years each time there was news that a Texan had died.

The revolution officially came to an end on April 21st of 1863. Jaime was twenty-one the last time he died.

You weren't there, but the story echoes within your heart and breathes life into your revolution-satisfied veins. The story has been told so many times that the enemies' numbers keep getting bigger and bigger while the rebels become braver and more heroic with each re-telling. This time, though, you know every recount is truer than the last. Now, it's a matter of figuring out which version you want to engrave into your memory so you can pass it on to the next generation who will record it in their history books.

Remus is telling the story tonight. He has a poetic dreaminess that amplifies the tragedy and victory tenfold. He is precise and meticulous with his word choice and does not gloss over any details. Everyone's contribution to the revolution is important to him, and he makes sure to highlight everyone's best moments. His honesty is neither blunt nor tempered; instead, it is raw and beautiful and veritable.

This story, the one about the capture and imprisonment of dictator Gellerto, an eighteen minute battle at San Jacinto, and a victory that officially ended the revolution, is your favourite by far. It marks the end of the dark ages and a period of rebirth where light prevails. The ambush led by General Longbeard took the Mexicans completely by surprise and resulted in an astounding six hundred and thirty casualties on the Mexican side and only nine on the Texan side.

Jaime, your dear brave and wonderful soldier, was one of the nine fatalities. He had single-handedly recruited and rallied most of the Texan army following the fall of the Alamo and had been reckless in his attack as he sought vengeance against Gellerto for Sirius' death. But, Gellerto had been warned of Jaime's wrath and had personally shot him during the invasion. During Remus' re-telling, it comes to light that there had been a spy amongst the Texans, a spy who jeopardised missions and messages by delaying and altering the telegraphs. He was the very same double-agent who alerted Gellerto about Jaime. This spy went by the name of Pedro. General Longbeard then chimes in to announce that Pedro has been dealt with - you do not dare to decipher what that phrase truly means.

The battle was long and it was the fight of your life. But it all paid off in the end, for you stood up as a champion on that night and the rest of forever.

Victory is finally yours.

[-]


	15. james&lily: Rainy Day

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer:<strong>

For Liza (NeonDomino) as my February for GGE 2015. This story went through at least thirteen different scenarios because I wasn't particularly pleased with any of them. Jury's still out on this one. Daycare!au because little kids are cute, and so are you. xoxo

28 February 2015. Word Count: 1,251

**"I'm not a Seeker! I'm a chaser!"**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Rainy Day<span>**

[-]

"Rain, rain, go away," eight-year-old Lily sang. Her breath fogged up the window glass; it had gotten so dark and dreary outside that all she could see was her rain-streaked reflection and not much else. With her fingers, she drew pictures of flowers and kitties and things that made her feel happy and warm. She added in a smiling, stick figure family, too. Her real family wasn't one for happiness, but some of the other parents at the daycare were really nice and fun and Lily liked to imagine that her family was like that, too.

A little boy with dark, messy hair came running into the room. Lily remembered that he was one of those who had a smiley mummy who always smelled like freshly-baked cookies. He clambered up on the window seat where Lily was sitting and poked her shoulder repeatedly. When that failed to get her attention, he started tugging on her braided pigtails.

"Lily!" the boy persisted. "Lily, come play!"

She let out another big sigh to renew the condensation on the glass, which in turn made her window pictures stand out more. Lily admired her artwork for a few seconds – honestly, if he didn't stop poking her in that same spot on her shoulder, she'd have a bruise there come tomorrow – and then directed her attention at the boy.

"What do you want, James?"

He physically could not stop moving and was all elbows and angles as he wiggled around on the window seat. "Come play," he repeated. "Me and Sirius and Remus and Peter are all in the Great Hall. Nanny McGee went out to talk to Mr Dumbledore, so we can be as loud as we want for a few minutes. Come on, Lily, it'll be fun! We were thinking of mattress surfing down the stairs and banister sliding and Hide-and-go-Seek."

"You don't care that I'm a girl?"

He ducked his head, the tips of his ears bright red. "You know I didn't mean anything by it."

"You told me I had cooties and that you couldn't play with me anymore! You said I had to go play with the babies because that's all I was."

"I didn't mean nothing by it. Sirius made me tell you that," James said quickly. "I didn't want to but he insisted. Lily, you _know_ that you're actually my bestest friend."

She smoothed out the pleats in her dress. "If you say so." She jumped off the ledge and said, "I'll come but don't force me to play one of your dumb card games. Despite what you may think, you actually can't do magic."

He tumbled down after her, tripping over his untied shoelaces. James went sprawling, as per usual, and picked himself up. "Can too. I'll prove it."

"No, don't," Lily groaned as she followed him out of the entrance parlour and to the main hallway. She already missed her comfortable spot with the perfect view of who came and went in the daycare. But it had been a long time since she played with the other kids, though, so she allowed herself a few minutes away from her window seat. Her parents wouldn't come in the short time she vacated her constant vigilant watch, anyways.

The other three boys who were always up to mischief with James were lounging about on the grand staircase in the Great Hall. Sirius, the wild child, sprung to his feet as soon as he caught sight of Lily and James.

"Finally!" he exclaimed. "Thought you'd never show and Peter would win." Sirius turned to Peterr and nudged the boy. "Hey. You owe me six-pence. I beat your betting time by two minutes."

Lily rolled her eyes at him and stood in the middle of the foyer, right underneath the crystal chandelier. She spun in lazy circles, eyes fixed on the glittering shards of clear light above her. "So? What's the plan?"

"Hide-and-Seek," Remus said. "With bonus points if you leap out and scare Nanny McGonagall."

"Are we doing teams? Please tell me we're doing teams," Sirius said excitedly. "I call dibs on Remus."

"I'm with Lily," James replied just as fast.

"And I'm alone," Peter said glumly. "Again."

Lily collapsed breathlessly on the floor and made herself stop seeing double as she focused her gaze in Peter's direction. "We can be a team if you want. James can be Seeker."

"I'm not a Seeker! I'm a chaser!"

"Be Seeker or I won't play," she demanded.

"No," James retorted, all stubborn petulance.

"Do it."

"I won't."

"Be. Seeker."

Peter witnessed their exchange with wide eyes. "Stop it! I'll be Seeker, as long as you two stop fighting."

James smiled smugly and gave Peter a friendly shove. "Thanks, Pete. You're the best."

Lily, on the other hand, was not as pleased. "You shouldn't give in so easily, Peter. Stand up for yourself and what you want."

"Yeah, well, what you want and what I want are two different things," Peter snapped. He dusted off his pants before turning his back on the groups. "I'm going to start counting now. Sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight."

Sirius and Remus disappeared off together, leaving Lily and James to panic as they tried to think of the perfect hiding spot and best place to scare Nanny McGee.

"The cupboards under the stairs," James insisted.

"Forty-six. I heard that! Forty-five," Peter responded.

"Way to go," Lily hissed. She tugged him out of the Great Hall and out of Peter's earshot. "Kitchens?"

"Might as well."

However, Lily's brilliant plan had already been thought of by the other team. They saw Sirius in the same exact hiding space that they had been planning to use.

"Where Wolf?" James asked craning his neck around to find Remus since he only could see Sirius in his hiding spot in the kitchens.

"Here Wolf," Sirius replied, pointing in Remus's general direction.

Lily and James squinted but still could not find their friend.

"Okay," Lily said sceptically. "Well, we have to go find our own hiding place. Bye."

"Don't tell Pete where we are!" Sirius whisper-yelled as she and James left the kitchens. James waved in response but did not commit to a concrete answer.

"You're totally going to rat them out, aren't you," Lily laughed as she and James ran down the daycare's hallways in search of any hiding spot, now. They'd long given up on the perfect hiding spot since they'd rather be hidden in a mediocre spot than not when Peter came searching for them.

"I wouldn't betray my friends like that," James said, sounding rather shocked at her assumption.

"Shh!" Lily said abruptly. "I think I hear Peter!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him into the first alcove they saw. In the semi-darkness, she giggled and peered out to see if she could see Peter. She spied his brown hair, and so she quickly jerked her head back into the alcove, almost smashing into James's nose in the process.

It was quiet besides the sound of their breathing. Her pupils had adjusted to the lack of light in the space, and Lily shoved a fist in her mouth to keep from making noise when she saw the goofy faces James was making at her to pass the time. She punched him in the shoulder to reprimand him for compromising their hiding spot; apparently her fist caught him unaware because he let out a muffled yelp.

"Aha!" Peter yelled, footsteps thundering in their direction, as he discovered James and Lily. "Got you!"

[-]


	16. sirius&marlene:you're going to miss this

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer:<strong>

Written for the Weekly AU! Competition (w2: support group!au)

1 March 2015. Word Count: 1,456

**He wasn't what she needed but instead a way to get what she wanted.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>you're going to miss this, you're going to want it back<span>**

[-]

"Lily! Slow down!" Marlene tugged at her wrist where Lily had an iron clasp on her.

"Come on!" Lily yelled back at her best friend as she ploughed through the corridors. She didn't dodge the other Hogwarts students as much as run them over if they didn't have the foresight to move out of her way. "We're going to be late!"

"Late? For what?" Marlene tried to think back to her time table but as far as she knew, today was a free day.

Lily shook her red curls and continued to bulldoze her way through the school. "Come _on_, Mar! Stop resisting!"

"If you would tell me where the bloody hell you're dragging me off to –"

"No time to explain! Let's go!"

Apparently, after a three minute mad sprint from Gryffindor Tower to the other end of the castle, their destination turned out to be an old, unused classroom on the fourth floor.

"So," Marlene said, as the two of them stood in the middle of an empty corridor. She looked at Lily expectantly. "What's the rush?"

Suddenly, Lily wasn't looking so well anymore. She clasped her hands together in the universal sign for when one begs for forgiveness. "Please, please, please don't be mad at me," she said hurriedly in one breath.

"Well, when you say it like _that_..."

"Marlene. Please."

The blonde blinked at her friend's grave seriousness and slowly nodded her acquiescence. In response, Lily let out a long and relieved sigh.

"But now you have to tell me what the fuck is going on –"

"Yeah, I know," Lily interrupted. She leaned against the closed classroom door, her hand curled around the doorknob. "Um. So you know how torn up you were after your break-up with Sirius and how you wouldn't eat or talk to anyone for weeks –"

"Yes, I remember."

"Right, so I was super worried about you, okay? And I know it's two months later and you're better now but you still really haven't talked to anyone about it and I thought that you might want to, you know, share with people who've been through the same thing so I –"

"Oh, Lily, you _didn't_."

Lily bit her lip and wouldn't meet Marlene's eyes.

"I can't bel_ieve_ you think I want to share my emotions with all the other girls who have been burned and rejected by him! What he and I had was different –"

"What? No! I'm not making you spill your heart out to his fan club," Lily said. "This is more generic. It's for anyone, and people share their experiences with addiction and support each other and their recovery."

"You think I was addicted to Sirius?"

"I don't know what to think because you're so tight-lipped about what happened between the two of you."

Marlene scowled.

"Please, Mar," Lily implored. "Just try one meeting. You don't have to say anything. Sit, listen, enjoy the positivity. Let some of the anger and hurt out. It'll be good for you."

She stared at Lily for a few moments. Lily's green eyes looked at her earnestly and with hope. Marlene remembered the days after her break-up with Sirius where Lily would tiptoe around her as if she would fall apart into pieces any moment. In that moment, Marlene hated herself for not realising sooner that she had dragged her best friend through the pain and suffering of the aftermath, too.

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed, realising Lily was only meddling because she was only trying to help. "I'll try it out. No promises, though."

Lily reached out and hugged her best friend. "Thank you," she breathed. She turned around, said the password, and the door opened.

x

"My name is Marlene, and I am an adrenaline junkie."

The group chorused a hello back to her. She gave a little nod, signalling it was all she was going to say, and then it was the next person's turn to share.

Today was the first time out of the eight sessions Marlene had attended that she had spoken aloud to the group. It wasn't much, but it was progress. For the most part, she preferred listening to the others and hearing their daily achievements in their steps to overcoming their addictions instead of speaking about her own issues.

When the group leader had offered Marlene to share today, though, something made her speak. It surprised Marlene that she said her addiction was to adrenaline and not a specific person, but after eight weeks of listening to the others, Marlene had an epiphany. While she was so wrapped up in love with Sirius, the adrenaline rush she got during their time together was the actual reason why she kept coming back to him. He wasn't what she needed but instead a way to get what she wanted.

After the meeting ends, Marlene lingered in the classroom. She went over to the corner of the room that had caught her attention while she had been speaking. Earlier, she thought she saw a shoe appear, move, and then disappear. Now, though, there's nothing but air there.

x

"Hey," Lily said as she came into the Common Room late after a midnight rendezvous with James. "What are you doing up so late?"

Marlene gestured to the parchment she was writing on. "Letter exchange within the support group. We're supposed to write about a fear, do a potluck exchange, share aloud the one we receive, and then do a group burning of the fears."

"Huh. I like that. I might go to the next meeting, then. Except I have a fear of fire, so maybe not."

"I'll burn your paper for you, if you want."

"Would you, Marlene? Then I'll be there." Lily let out a massive yawn. "Pardon me," she excused herself. "I guess I ought to be going to bed, then."

"Night, Lily." Marlene dipped her quill in ink and resumed writing her long list of fears. She wouldn't be turning in the whole list tomorrow at the meeting, but when she had first done the exercise, she found she couldn't stop after just one.

x

"Thank you," she murmured as she accepted the slip of parchment the group leader passed out. She opened up someone else's fear and had only read the first two words when a guy bumped into her.

"I'm so sorry!" he apologised. He knelt down on the ground and picked up their dropped pieces of paper. "Here," he said, presenting hers to her. "Again, really sorry."

Marlene shrugged. "No harm, no foul." She opened the folded parchment again but noticed it wasn't the one she had originally gotten. She searched the room for the guy who had bumped into her and was now in possession of the fear she was supposed to be reading but she couldn't find him. It wasn't a big deal, though, so she read the new parchment.

_I have a fear of saying the wrong thing. I want to tell her I'm sorry and that if we could do it over, I'd love her right this time. But she'll tell me it's too late to apologise, so I'll just save us the wasted breath._

She read the paper over and over again. Her heart ached for the people whose relationship couldn't be saved. By the time it's time to burn the fears, Marlene has the stranger's words and fear committed to her memory.

x

At the next session, Marlene shared to the group her crash-and-burn relationship with Sirius. She told them about how it hurt so much to be with him but that it hurt even more when they weren't. All the memories: the screaming, fighting, kissing in the rain, the jealousy and dangerous power games just to get the other's attention, how she loved him with all she had and how he gave her everything and nothing in return. Nothing was spared.

Halfway through her confession, Marlene saw him. He was wearing the same shoes she thought she saw at the meeting a few weeks ago. She doesn't falter, doesn't stop sharing how bad he was for her yet she couldn't stay away. The words of the stranger's fear she memorised helped Marlene stay strong and continue sharing. She didn't want to look back on her life and have the only words she regretted to be the ones she never said but wished she had. Through it all, Marlene kept her eyes trained on Sirius as she admitted her side of their relationship directly to him. He stared back unwaveringly.

She's exhausted after letting go free the love she had burning inside her for ten months now. When the meeting had concluded, Sirius stuck around, presumably to apologise to her maybe even say he still loved her but Marlene had already found the closure she needed.

[-]


	17. marlene&mum: Ours

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer:<strong>

Written for the Mother's Day Competition (easy, Mrs McKinnon and Marlene).

Mothers are beautiful, lovely, irreplaceable people. Please send lots of love and appreciation to your mother xoxo

9 May 2015. Word Count: 1.202

**Sirius is already everything and more.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Ours<span>**

[-]

Marlene blunders down the steps that Sunday morning, heavy-footed and bleary-eyed. Upon seeing Mum sitting at the breakfast table with a steaming cup of tea in hand, Marlene stops immediately in her tracks.

"Good morning, sunshine," Mum says pleasantly.

"Er, hi." Subtly, Marlene tugs at the neck of her sleep shirt so it will cover the evidence of what happened last night.

"Did you have a good time at Dorcas's?"

Marlene nods her head as she moves down the rest of the staircase and makes her way to the toaster. She is pretty certain that Mum knows she wasn't at her best friend's having a girls-only night yesterday like she had said she would be, but on the off-chance that Mum is simply making conversation Marlene keeps her responses to the minimum.

"And Sirius? How's he?"

_Double dragon shit_. Marlene cringes and turns around to face her mother sheepishly. She knows she's caught. "He's doing well."

"Mm." Her mother sips her tea. "Walburga called this morning."

"Oh?" Marlene gives up on making toast; for some reason, this conversation has made her lose her appetite. To avoid looking directly at her mother, Marlene pulls her snarled hair into a ponytail and finger-combs through the blonde ends.

"Marlene, sweetheart, look at me."

She drops her hair and slowly lifts her gaze.

Mum tells Marlene gently, "I'm not mad at you, all right? I just want to know the truth. Will you be honest with me?"

Marlene nods in agreement.

"Thank you, sweetheart." Her mother pauses and collects her thoughts. "I know you know Daddy and I don't really care for the Blacks or what they believe in. But we don't want our disagreements to influence your judgment or perception of other people. You are your own person, Marlene, and as such you make your own choices and will face your own consequences. Daddy and I will offer our guidance but we aren't the ones who ultimately make your decisions. _You_ are the one who is in control of your life.

"Now, we have raised you to be an honest and just person. We have taught you right from wrong and have established rules in this household. You know well that every rule that you break has a deserving and fair result.

"Daddy and I, we're disappointed in you for lying to us about your whereabouts last night. As a result, we have set an eight o'clock curfew in place and have taken away broom privileges for the rest of the summer. Both of these are punishments you were fully aware would happen when you broke the rules last night."

Marlene sighs but she knows Mum is being fair. It's quiet in the McKinnon kitchen for a few moments as mother and daughter replay the conversation in their heads. Marlene wishes she could keep her mouth shut – anything else she says is incriminating evidence against herself – but the words spill out of her anyways. "So you aren't mad that I was out with Sirius?"

Her mother traces the rim of her teacup with one finger. She stares out the kitchen window into the morning summer sunshine. Finally, she says: "The fact that you felt like you had to sneak around instead of tell us the truth bothers your father and me. That you were with a boy only escalates the situation. But it is irrelevant to us that the boy in question was Sirius." Mum turns her attention back to Marlene. "Now, why don't you sit down and tell me what really happened last night?"

"Mum, I –"

"Honesty, remember?"

Marlene shuffles over to the breakfast table and plops resignedly into the seat across from her mother. She rubs her eyes and says, "I wanted to tell you before, Mum. I feel horrible breaking yours and Daddy's trust. But I didn't think you would approve of Sirius. No one ever does. No one except me."

"So, tell me more about him. You don't need to convince me of anything or have to win my approval – just tell me whatever you would like to share," Mum smiles kindly.

There's a selfish part inside of Marlene that wants to keep Sirius a secret, to keep him just hers. But at the same time, Marlene is tired of people jumping to conclusions and judging him and her without knowing all the inherently good things about their relationship. And she knows Mum will always be on her side even if Marlene is wrong or makes mistakes. Her mother will support her no matter what, and for that Marlene is grateful.

"All right," Marlene says. She doesn't know where to start since this is the first time anyone has shown a genuine interest in learning about Sirius. Once again, she is not thinking about what she's saying; the words just pour out of her. "Er, well, he's in Gryffindor. Brave, charming, noble, reckless, everything that Gryffindors are made of. Er, he has a small gap in between his front teeth and smirks more than he smiles. He's smart but lazy, but his studies and marks have improved recently because he wants to be intelligent and good enough for me. It's great that he wants to improve but I don't want him to change himself because of _me_, Mum. Sirius is already everything and more. But he refuses to believe me, and I can't get Sirius to see how _wonderful_ and _talented_ and _considerate_ he is. And since he can't see and believe it, no one else can, either. All they see is a delinquent tattooed prankster who will never grow up or amount to anything in life. But he will, I _know _he will."

"This is Walburga's first son?" Mum clarifies to which Marlene nods. "Well, sweetheart, Sirius is lucky to have you care so much about him. Merlin knows that child has probably had a rough life, being raised in the Black household. You're most likely his only source of affection, love, and happiness. It sounds like you're doing the right thing and all that you can for him, darling. Just keep encouraging him and giving him confidence and strength.

"As for the outsiders looking in to your relationship with him, don't listen to them. It's not theirs to speculate about. People are going to disapprove and judge no matter what but don't you worry your pretty little mind, Marlene. People throw rocks at things that shine, and life makes love look hard. You two sound like you have a timeless relationship, one that will last. They're jealous that they don't have what you and Sirius have. Don't let their snide remarks define your relationship or make you second-guess anything. Have faith in yourselves, all right?"

Marlene wipes her eyes and smiles appreciatively. "Thank you, Mummy," she says. She gets up and wraps herself up in her Mum's waiting arms. "Thank you so, so much."

Mum kisses the top of her daughter's head and rubs Marlene's back. Her fingers run through her daughter's hair, so similar to what she would do when Marlene was younger. "Promise you'll be safe, Marlene? That you'll make good decisions and not love him so much that you end up losing yourself?"

"I promise."

[-]


End file.
